


Scars

by mysteriate



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Barebacking, Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriate/pseuds/mysteriate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris sees Anders is unhealthily skinny and covered in scars and realizes he's misjudged him. He makes it up to him with baskets of food and amazing sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anders doesn't want to talk about it

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. It stemmed from a dream I had, and I have a few ideas for possible sequels. It is unbeta'd and I wrote it using the handwriting recognition software on my tablet, so be warned. I know I got rid of all of the auto corrected "Ferris"s, but if you see any other grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know and I will try to fix them ASAP.

"Blasted slavers tore my jacket!" Anders cried. He sat on a rock next to Varric and inspected the damage.

"Don't fret, Blondie, you’ll get wrinkles!" Varric responded.

“Yeah, plus rips add character!” Hawke added and the two rogues burst out into laughter.

"I might be able to fix it..." Anders mumbled ignoring them. He removed his jacket and placed it on his lap. He plucked off one of the loose feathers, and pulled a hem out of his already threadbare shirt. He began removing the stem of the feather and trying to fashion it into some sort of needle.

"Why did you not heal yourself, mage?" Came Fenris' voice from behind him.

"What are you talking about?" Anders turned around to look at the elf who was standing behind him.

"Your wounds," he took a clawed finger and ran it ever-so-lightly over a large scar plainly visible through the holes in the mage’s shirt, "You have scars, if you had healed yourself using your beloved magic, they would not be here.'' Anders shivered, he wasn't sure if Fenris sounded more confused or upset, either way the touch wasn't particularly welcome.

"I couldn't.'' He said simply, and returned to trying to thread the hollow feather stem.

"What do you mean, you couldn't?" Hawke asked, and without missing a beat or looking up Anders replied,

"I find it hard to perform my healing magic when my hands are tied to separate beams."

"Oooh,Blondie likes it rough! Who knew?" Varric laughed again. Anders was quiet for a moment, then he threw the feather and thread, whipped his coat back over his shoulders, and stood up.

"I think you got what you came for Hawke, I say we head home."

"What, you finally found something you don't want to prattle on endlessly about?"

"Must everything be joke with you two?" Anders shouted, he turned around to face Fenris, who was being surprisingly quiet considering he brought the whole thing up. "I suppose you're going to laugh at me as well?!" Fenris did not move. "Fine you can all make your own way back home!" Anders shouted, then turned and left.

"What got into him?" Hawke asked.

"No idea." Varric replied. 

Fenris remained quiet for the entire trip home.

* * *

Anders sat alone in his dark town hovel. He decided to leave the lantern off for the night. He was just too exhausted and angry to be of use to anyone right now. He sat in front of a blank page in his manifesto, but he couldn’t seem to put pen to paper. 

His life in the circle was coming back to haunt him and he couldn’t shake the memories. It was years ago but he could still feel the lashes on his skin. The scar Fenris had pointed out was from one of the templars who thought it would be funny to attach sharp metal scraps to the end of his flogger, then proceeded to whip him with it. He could hear the laughter as his blood poured down his backside, and no one lifted a finger to stop it.

Hawke didn't know any better. He wasn't there, and neither was Varric, but he could hear their laughing voices mixed in with the rest. They were lucky Anders managed to gather himself and leave before Justice had a chance to speak. Or rather he was lucky, Anders was sure he'd be the dead one if that sort of situation ever arose. He put his pen down and crawled on top of one of his cots, not even bothering to change his clothes. For once he was grateful that he was too exhausted for insomnia, the nightmares would probably wake him, but at least he'd get in a couple hours without any trouble.

* * *

Fenris lay awake in Danarius’ extravagant bed, but he was unable to find sleep. As soon as Fenris had opened his mouth he wished he hadn't. The former slave knew that kind of torture all too well. It was clear to him when the scars had come from. Danarius had whipped and flogged many slaves in the past. On several occasions he himself was subject to the mage's wrath, but Danarius would never allow a scar to mar his otherwise perfect Lyrium-covered skin. 

Anders had several scars along his back and they were not from any sort of sexual encounters like the dwarf had presumed. Fenris had also noted that Anders was unhealthily skinny and in need of and new shirt. No doubt this was due to the mage's feeling of obligation to give when he had something a dweller of dark town did not. lt was obvious every gold Hawke had given him was squandered on those refugees. He should have guessed that the man's food and clothes went to them as well. Seeing as how Fenris wasn't using his gold either, and definitely wasn’t sleeping any time soon, he decided to make a trip to the market. He also made a stop at Danarius' supply closet on the way out.


	2. Fruit Baskets

As expected Anders was awakened at god awful hours of the morning by his haunting memories. It wasn't even sunrise yet. He tossed and turned a bit but soon he just accepted that he wasn't going to get anymore sleep tonight. He stood up and began preparing his clinic for the day, distracting himself with inventories and potion making, which was becoming quite usual. A couple of hours later he dared let in all of the sick, needy, hungry people of Kirkwall.

Anders unlocked and opened the door to his clinic, as he lit the lantern he noticed something sitting on the step out front, and for once it wasn’t a poor homeless refugee passed out waiting for him open his clinic. He turned and picked the item up. lt seemed to be a small fruit basket. Anders went inside where he could see and unpacked the items from the basket. There was a small loaf of bread, an apple, some grapes, a slice of fresh watermelon, 3 shirts in assorted colors, and a jar of cream with a note. Anders unfolded the note, but it was written in Tevine so he could only understand a select few words: "Trial","Healing", "Salve", "Lubricant", and the ingredients'' Elfroot" and "Ironbark.'' Anders took a bite of the apple as he began digging through the Tevine books he had wondering if he had the resources to translate.

He tried to work on the translation between patients, but today was a particularly busy day. Before he knew it, it was sundown and he was starving. He'd only eaten half of the apple from this morning, the rest of the food was prescribed to patients suffering the ill effects of malnutrition. He retired to his back room and pulled out one of the shirts, it was royal blue and silk. He hadn't worn anything this soft in... ever. He removed his tattered grey one and slipped the silk one over his head. He squirmed a little at first, but it felt nice. He looked ridiculous, but the thought was nice. He had to know who had left it, so he sat down and went back to reading the note. lt took him a couple of hours, but he did eventually finish the translation. Not that it really helped .

"Trial one was a success. The scars cleared up after a week of repeated use. The healing properties of the salve also worked instantly on open wounds as well as various bruises.

As expected the product also works well as a lubricant. Unfortunately the recipient enjoyed the event and made a terrible mess. I will retire this batch and start a new one. I predict adding some ironbark and halving the amount of elfroot will slow down the healing process and cause just enough discomfort for my needs."

"What. The. Fuck?" Anders said aloud reading the note again. He opened the jar and smelled it. lt smelled like a healing potion. He felt sick to his stomach and was sufficiently creeped out. He put the jar back in the basket and tucked it back into a corner. He removed the shirt and shoved it in the basket as well. He went back out to the clinic and began cleaning. He tried to distract himself with thoughts of Hawke, Varric and Fenris. He hadn't seen any of them all day and probably owed all of them some sort of apology. He wasn't ready to seek them out yet. Instead he sat down again, failed to add an entry to his manifesto, and passed out from exhaustion several minutes later.

Another morning of waking up insanely early, taking inventory, preparing the clinic and lighting of the lantern. Again it was before sunrise and again there was another basket at his door. He peeked at it, saw the food and brought it back inside for further inspection. This time the basket contained only foodstuffs. There was a squash, a cucumber, more grapes, and another small loaf of bread. Seeing as how the apple didn't harm him, he helped himself to a few grapes and a small chunk of bread and saved the rest for the day’s patients. 

Every day of the following week played out this way, until Anders couldn't take it anymore, he had to know who was leaving these damned baskets. He resolved to sit next to his door all night long and find out once and for all.


	3. Fenris?

Fenris made his way to the home of a local shop owner in hightown. By now (after waking him and his wife up in the middle of the night demanding food) the shop owner had a basket of food already prepared on his doorstep. Fenris left a gold coin under the door in exchange and brought the basket to Anders’ clinic. A couple of thieves decided to bother him on the way, but Fenris set down the basket and quickly disposed of them before trudging onward. A little bit of blood made its way to the basket but Fenris was pretty sure you weren't supposed to eat the outside of an orange anyway.

He stood in front of the abomination's clinic for the 8th night in a row. If someone 3 years ago had told him this is where he'd be, the poor soul would have had their heart torn out then and there. Like he had nearly every morning, he stood silently staring at the closed door, wondering if the mage was asleep or frantically working inside. The last time he saw Anders was on the wounded coast when he'd unintentionally instigated the rogues' teasing. He, Varric and Hawke had let the mage have his space since that day.

Fenris had spent several sleepless nights wallowing in guilt. He wondered how he had missed the mage's pain. Why had he just assumed that Anders was just whining again? That he couldn't possibly know what pain was? It was so obvious now that they had been through the exact same thing, but he'd let blind hate rule his actions. The number of times had insulted the man on dogged on him. With that, any thoughts he had of knocking had vanished. There was no way the mage had any interest in seeing or speaking to him right now. He was about to set the basket down when the door creaked in front of him. He froze and he was pretty sure his heart stopped beating.

Anders stood in the doorway squinting at him. The only light source was faint candlelight and it was coming from inside the clinic but Fenris could see perfectly well. Anders was only wearing clothes on the lower half of his body and the man's chest was riddled with nasty scars. He'd contemplated and even rehearsed the words he would say the next time he spoke to the mage, but standing in front of him, all words were gone. He wasn’t sure exactly when his perception of Anders had been completely reversed, but as he stood there staring at him in silence, every fiber of his being wanted to reach out and comfort the man he’d considered his rival for so long. 

''Fenris?" Anders asked wearily rubbing his eyes. Fenris' eyes slowly drifted back upward. Anders looked exhausted and confused. Fenris was about to respond but his body had something else in mind. In the blink of an eye he found himself with Anders in his doorway, one hand buried in the mage's hair and the other was protectively around the other man's waist. His eyes were closed, his lips were on Anders', and his tongue was begging entrance. 

At first Anders was too stunned to provide any sort of response.. A few seconds later, which seemed like years for Fenris, Anders parted his lips and allowed Fenris to explore the depths of his mouth. His arms came up slowly and wrapped around Fenris' neck. Fenris teased the mages tongue with his own before retracting and nibbling lightly on Anders lower lip. Anders let out a light moan and Fenris pulled back. The elf, eyes still closed, rested his forehead against Anders'

"I'm sorry." His voice didn't sound like his own. lt was soft and broken.

"For what?" Anders' voice was loaded with concern and he moved one of his hands to cup Fenris' jaw. Fenris opened his eyes and found Anders staring back at him.

"Everything." Fenris pulled away, turned around, picked up the basket he hadn't realized he'd discarded, and held it out toward the mage. Anders stood quiet for a few moments, obviously still in shock. Then Anders grabbed the handle from Fenris, brushing their fingers together.

"You're the one who has been leaving me these?" Anders asked incredulously. Fenris nodded, not making eye contact. "You...You wrote that creepy note?"

"What note?" Fenris looked up

''The one that was attached to the jar of cream."

"No. I assumed it was instructions, what did it say?"

"You didn't read it?"

"Slaves are not permitted to learn such things."

"Oh," Anders went quiet.

"What did it say?" Fenris repeated.

"Something about healing scars and using the salve as lube but needing to add ironbark to reduce pleasure for the recipient.'' Fenris winced.

''That was... not for you to know. I... apologize" There was a long pause. Anders’ eyes grew wider, but chose not to speak. "That explains why you didn't use it." Fenris reached out to touch another one of Anders' scars. He ran his finger slowly across it, and this time he heard a hitch in the mage's breath. "Where is it?" 

Anders let out a croak, then cleared his throat. "Its in the back." His voice was weak and hoarse.


	4. It has to be a dream...

This had to be a dream; there was no other explanation. He'd fallen asleep guarding the door and for some reason he was having another sex dream about the elf. He sighed, then turned around and walked back to his small office area. Fenris followed, closing the door behind him. He sure made himself at home, removing his gauntlets and armor, and tossing them on the floor by the door. Anders handed Fenris the jar and he proceeded to open it, dipping his fingers in.

"This won't hurt.'' The elf said looking imploringly at Anders. 

‘Where have I heard that before?’ Anders asked himself before nodding. 

Fenris stepped closer and pressed his salve-covered fingers to the same chest-scar he had traced before. Anders lost his breath for a moment. No, it didn't hurt at all. It felt amazing! The healing magic tingled on his flesh. Fenris met his gaze and Anders had no doubt he was dreaming. This was too surreal, Fenris' eyes were too intense, his touch too gentle, his body too close. The elf looked back down as he moved onto the next deep scar he found. Anders licked his lips and Fenris eyes darted back up far too quickly. Anders drew in and let out a shaky breath. The elf seemed mesmerized by his mouth. Between the tingling of the salve, the touch of Fenris' fingers and the look on his face as he studied Anders' lips, Anders lost all control he had over himself.

The mage pushed forward and kissed his rival with a passion he hadn't known since Karl. Fenris wrapped his arms around him, letting his salve-covered hand rub the ointment into Anders' back. Anders gasped into the elf's mouth and felt a smile begin to form on Fenris' lips. Cocky bastard. Anders moved and kissed the corner of Fenris' mouth, then slowly made his way along the elf's jaw, stopping at his ear. Anders took the earlobe into his mouth and teased it between his teeth, drawing a hiss from the elf. He let out a hot breath over the man’s ear and watched him shiver in response. He then began kissing down Fenris' neck stopping to suck lightly on the sensitive spot just before the shoulder. Fenris moaned, voice impossibly low. The sound reverberated through Anders sending shivers down his spine and blood to his cock. He sucked harder, not caring if he would leave a mark. In response Fenris clawed at his back and his lyrium markings began to glow faintly. Anders licked and kissed the red area forming on the elf’s neck and moved slowly down to nibble on Fenris' collar bone. 

Finding tight leather to be in the way, Anders began blindly tearing at the collar of Fenris' shirt. The elf chuckled softly. Fenris briefly let go and single-handedly removed the offending garment. Anders felt the urge to just sit there and drool for a moment, but he was too afraid to pause. He might wake up, or worse Fenris might change his mind. Instead he made a beeline back to the elf's chest and ran his tongue across a lyrium brand that rested there. The lyrium hummed beneath him, and one of Fenris' hands had made its way back into his hair. He followed the marking downward until he found a hard nipple. He took the nub between his teeth and sucked lightly.

Fenris gasped and Anders heard something fall and break behind him. He quickly turned to see what it was; apparently Fenris had finally dropped the jar of salve he was holding. Anders smiled. He dipped his fingers into the mess of cream on the floor and pushed Fenris backward until he sat down on one of the cots. Anders untied his pants and stepped out of them along the way. This time he did give Fenris a second to soak everything in. He had no intention of forcing himself upon the beautiful creature. If on the off-chance this wasn’t a dream, he refused to just be another mage who took advantage of him. Fenris looked confused.

“What is it you wish of me?” 

Anders heart broke a little. He held his non-cream-covered hand up and cupped Fenris’ face. “You are not a slave anymore, Fenris. You never have to ask that question again. Instead ask what it is you wish to do.” Anders whispered and kissed the elf’s forehead. He patiently waited for a response, vaguely wondering if these were going to be his last seconds on earth. 

Fenris silently stared into Anders eyes for a few moments, and then directed his gaze slowly downward until he was staring at his own leather-clad legs. The elf removed them as swiftly as he had his shirt. Anders had barely a moment to take in the sight of Fenris’ gloriously lyrium-covered erection before the elf’s lips were on his again. As they kissed, Anders began to prepare himself using the salve. The tingling sensation it caused shot back up his spine. For a moment Anders felt light headed, and he couldn’t help but let out a long moan. Fenris opened his eyes and followed the mages arm. Upon noticing the keen interest in what he was doing to himself, Anders took Fenris' hand in his and brought it to his entrance, guiding him gently until the elf seemed comfortable on his own.

"Now one more." Anders whispered and Fenris complied by gently pushing another finger inside the mage. "And spread them out a li-ah, yes, just like that."

After the third finger he couldn’t take it any longer, Anders nudged the elf's arm upwards, wrapped a hand around the back of Fenris’ neck, and slowly began to lower himself onto the other man’s cock. Fenris’ shuddered, and held Ander’s gaze until the mage was fully settled in his lap. Anders began slowly moving his body up and down letting himself acclimate to the intrusion, and only once he was satisfied that the look on Fenris’ face was pure bliss, did he dare to move faster. 

Anders set a brutal pace as he rode Fenris, urged onward by the delicious sounds coming from the elf’s mouth. His entire body buzzed and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Fenris was clawing at his back with blunt fingernails, and began to thrust himself upwards deeper into the mage. Fenris struck Anders’ prostate and Anders threw his head back, letting his rhythm begin to falter. With every thrust Anders began to see stars.

“Anders... ” It was a purr, a whisper, a plea. It was Fenris and it was all he needed. His back arched and panted heavily as his entire body clenched over and over again spilling his seed onto the elf’s abdomen. He pushed on even as his body began give out determined to let Fenris experience the same pleasure.

“Fenris.” Anders moaned the name directly in the elf’s ear, and with a strangled cry, the entire room glowed incandescent blue. He could feel the man inside him pulse and fill him with white-hot liquid. Anders kissed Fenris one more time before they both collapsed on the cot below them. 

Anders stared at Fenris for a moment. He decided he liked seeing him like this. There was no scowl on his face, no hate spewing from his mouth. Just relaxed and happy behind those closed eyes. He pulled away and found his cloth pants. He quickly warmed up some of his drinking water with a fire spell and dipped the piece of clothing in. He lightly wiped down Fenris, drawing from him a hum of delight. He then found what used to be a blanket, laid down next to the elf and covered them both with it. 

Sleep found him easily. He wasn’t even plagued by nightmares, only dreams of lyrium-covered elves and impossibly deep voices.


	5. All the possibility and promise just weighs on me so heavily

When Anders woke up, he was alone in his cot. He looked around and saw Fenris by the door, shrugging into his armor. 

“You’re leaving?” Anders inquired, trying not to sound too disappointed.

“I’m sorry, I… this is just too much, too fast.” Fenris stammered, “It’s not even that… I began to remember my life before… these markings. There were faces… words… for just a moment, I could recall all of it, and then it slipped away.”

Anders stood and walked tentatively toward Fenris. “I know I can never understand what this is like for you, but I want you to know that you don’t have to go through it alone.” Anders reached out a hand to the elf’s arm, “Even if you go through that door right now, I’ll always have two perfectly good ears and a quite comfortable shoulder.” He tried to give Fenris a reassuring smile.

Fenris placed his hand over Anders’, exposing a strange-looking piece of torn, grey material tied around his wrist. “Thank you, and... I’m sorry. For everything.” Without looking back Fenris walked out of the door. 

On the floor next to the door, Anders saw his shirt, the bottom half of it had been viciously ripped off. He picked it up, as well of the salve-covered shards of glass and placed them in back with his growing pile of baskets. He collected what he could of the scar-healing cream and placed it in a new jar. He’d leave it up to tomorrow to decide whether to use it or save it for his patients... or for a future occasion. 

Anders sat down and wrote several pages into his manifesto. _“The oppression of mages stems from the fears of men, not from the will of the maker...”_


End file.
